by Joseph Lallo
Lain stared back at her sternly.
"One of my decoys has not been destroyed. I suspect she believes that she has captured one of us," Ether replied.
"You knew this all along," Lain hissed.
"The urgency of the pursuit was spurring Ivy on at a considerable pace. The faster we are able to relieve ourselves of this burden, the better," Ether explained.
Slowly, thoughts began to stir in Lain's head. He turned to the sleeping Ivy. With a tap on the leg, he awakened her. The young creature's eyes shot open. Almost instantly she was fully awake. She looked about, fearfully, and clambered gracelessly to her feet.
"I slept too long, didn't I? She's here, isn't she! We should hurry, let's go!" she urged.
"For now there is time. Ivy. I want you to sing something for me," he requested in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.
"You want me to . . . sing? I've never sung. Why would you want that?" Ivy said, almost nervously.
"Indulge me," he said.
"I . . . I don't know what to sing. It isn't reasonable for you to ask me to do that if I haven't done it before. Why would you think that I would even know how to? I . . . I play the violin," she offered.
As she spoke, a more familiar look came to Lain's face. The tiny, nuanced changed in his expression that only a few in this world had learned to read properly. Anger. Ether watched with eyes untrained to detect such subtleties of emotion. Suddenly, in a smooth motion that was over before Ether had even noticed it had begun, Lain pulled free a dagger and plunged it deep into Ivy's heart. A twinge of pain swept over Lain. Ether and Ivy released simultaneous cries, identical in all ways save the voice. Ivy fell limply to the ground, gasping for breath. Ether was staggered, wavering on her feet. When she regained her balance, her eyes met with Lain's. The fury in his eyes was clear now even to her.
"Explain yourself," he demanded, his tone dripping with hatred.
Slowly, Ivy rose from the ground. Fear, pain, all emotion was gone from her face. Her features took on an even, practiced look of disinterest that matched Ether's perfectly. In unison, their mouths opened, and they spoke as one.
"It had to be done Lain. She was destroying you," they spoke in eerie harmony.
Suddenly the form of Ivy vanished in a burst of wind, the dagger in her chest clattering to the ground.
"Where is she!" Lain demanded, his sword drawn.
"Put her out of your mind. She was poison to you. She was making you sloppy, you were making mistakes," Ether said.
Lain swiped his weapon at her with incredible speed. She managed to shift to wind and whisk aside, shifting back to human again behind him.
"She may be one of the last of my kind. It is my duty to protect her!" he raged.
"Duty?! Your duty is to this world! And you are forsaking it! You are wasting precious moments to preserve what is nothing more than an attempt by the enemy to subvert you! Anyone could see that this has gone past duty for you. It is obsession! Devotion! It is . . . " she cried, stopping herself.
"Love!" Lain replied.
"Yes, love! And she doesn't deserve it! She is a thing! Weak! Ignorant! Impermanent! You and I both know that there is only one being worthy of you! I am powerful! I am eternal! We share everything! Purpose! Origin! And I am spurned for a failed experiment with the mind of a child!" Ether ranted.
She shifted to Ivy's form. "I can be anything you require of me! Do you want a malthrope? So be it! Do you desire a human?"
Her form shifted to Myranda's.
"You shall have it! I can make myself into anyone that has earned from you what I am denied!" Ether raved, shifting back to her own human form and grasping desperately at Lain's cloak. "All I ask is for your trust! For your respect! For your affection! All I ask is that I be the one for you! That I have the place in your thoughts that is rightfully mine!"
Lain's grip tightened on his weapon. Hatred and anger swept over him in pulses and waves.
"You would speak to me of obsession! You don't even know what love is and you demand it of me? It can not be demanded. You don't understand it. Ivy is like a daughter to me. You . . . I will not attempt to reason with you. You are dead to me. Tell me where she is," he said.
"I will not allow you to squander yourself on that abomination!" Ether cried.
Lain bared his teeth, clenched so tight they creaked.
"Think!" he hissed between them. "She is Chosen and you have betrayed her. Anything that happens to her now is on your shoulders. What price will fate demand of you if she comes to harm? How will your precious mark punish you if she comes to her end?"
Ether stood silent. Lain's words had pierced the thick veil of emotion. Slowly the truth of her actions became clear to her, and the consequences painfully so. She'd felt the burning several times already, a sharp, sudden pain in her head where the mark could be found. She ignored it, dismissed it. Even now there was a constant dull sensation.
"Gods . . . they've found a way to destroy me. I should have been destroyed the moment I led her away. If they kill her . . . we must find her. I led her away with some of the other decoys. Trigorah must have her! We must find her before it is too late! Until I can undo my mistake, her life is my own!" Ether cried, genuine fear in her voice.
She shifted to flame and burst high into the still darkened sky.
#
Far away, Ivy cowered fear and tried to catch her breath. She was still struggling to work out what had happened, but there had been little time to think. That woman, the one that Lain had run from, was near. In the initial sprint down the mountain a great deal of ground had been put between them, but now Trigorah was on horseback. It was all Ivy could do to stay a few steps ahead. The fear that had gripped her from the moment she saw what had happened to her friends still burned her mind. The whole of the pursuit had been a constant effort to keep it from consuming her, from turning her into the monster. Doing so would allow her to escape, there was no question of that. What worried her was that when she awoke, if she awoke, there was no telling where she might be. So she had run.
Now she found herself in dank ally in a large town. The moon was behind the thick, perpetual clouds overhead. Despite the size of this place, there were very few people. After years of war one would be hard pressed to find a town that didn't seem deserted. This, at least, was in Ivy's favor. It had allowed her to make it to this shadowy, litter strewn alley unseen. Now she sat, her back against a cold damp stone wall, clutching a battered wooden box like a security blanket. A corridor leading behind one of the buildings was to her left. To her right, a few dozen paces away, the icy city street. Quickly she realized how foolish she was to have come this way. Lain had made it clear that the places of man should be avoided, but she couldn't help it. She felt drawn to them, like she belonged among these people. Now she regretted coming here. Every footfall that reached her sensitive ears turned in her mind to Trigorah coming for her. Breathing deeply, she tried desperately to clear her mind. She couldn't bring herself to believe what she had seen happen to her friends. They had just vanished. She tried to ignore the footsteps, replaying the scene over in her head. The way Lain swept away seemed so familiar, and the way Trigorah didn't seem to expect it, much less to have caused it. But if not she then who? Did Lain do it? Did he know magic?
Ivy felt a strange tingling in her spine. She turned to the opening of the alleyway. Time seemed to slow. The tip of a polished sword caught what little light there was as it slipped into view. In that tiny reflection Ivy's keen eyes locked with those of another. Trigorah. Praying that she had not been seen, Ivy clambered backward as quietly as she could, turning the corner in the alley. Crouching low, she trained her eyes on the ground where she'd been sitting. Footsteps echoed closer. The ground took on the white blue glow of the jewels in the general's blade. Ivy turned away, her eyes now shifting down the length of the corridor, her legs primed for a sprint. An instant later, her heart leapt into her throat. There was nothing ahead but a few more paces of filthy, snow-drifted c
obblestone and a wall reaching up to the roofs of the tall buildings on either side. A dead end.
She turned again, but time had run out. The light of the sword was painfully bright after the blackness of the alley. Trigorah held it at the ready, her eyes coldly reading the malthrope, judging what this beast before her was capable of. Ivy closed her eyes and shielded her face with the box, backing to the wall behind her.
"What did you – How did – No! Please, no I-" she stammered hysterically, the blue aura of fear rising despite her best efforts.
"Silence," Trigorah ordered, her voice low but forceful.
"No, not here. Just not here. Please. There are people. If I change they might get hurt," she pleaded tearfully, as much with herself as with Trigorah.
"Silence! Listen to me. Creature!" Trigorah demanded with hushed insistence. She sifted through what she'd learned of the creature. Demont had spoken of a name she called herself. "IVY!"
At the sound of her name, Ivy stopped and looked slowly at her pursuer.
"Did . . . did you call me Ivy? The teachers never called me that . . . " she said.
Ivy drew in a long sample of Trigorah's scent.
"You were there. When they had me. But you aren't one of them, are you?" Ivy asked.
"I am a General of the Northern Alliance and I am sworn to defend it. Now tell me where the others are. I promise you that it is not our intention to bring any of you to harm," Trigorah said.
"Where are they? You KILLED THEM! And now you are going to lie to my face and tell me you don't want to hurt us!" Ivy snapped, a surge of red light painting the alleyway as the scene replayed itself in her mind again.
"That was not my doing," Trigorah said.
"Don't lie. DON’T LIE TO ME!" Ivy seethed. Deep inside she knew that Trigorah could not have been responsible. Nevertheless, her emotions, denied fear as an outlet, sought anger in its place. She turned away, scolding herself. "Not here."
Her teeth clenched, the wooden box she held creaked in her grip. Ivy struggled to master her emotions. The last thing she wanted was to change here, in a city. Very slowly the red aura began to fade. Trigorah watched cautiously. At first she had doubted the descriptions of the power that Ivy wielded. Their nature and intensity seemed unlikely, impossible. Now, though, she began to reconsider. She was no wizard, but it didn't take a mystic to know that the raw energy she had felt, and the speed at which it was summoned forth, was not the sort of thing to be taken lightly. Against her best instincts, she returned her sword to its sheath. Now was not a time to appear to be a threat.
"Ivy, look at me. I am not here to hurt you, and I did not hurt your friends," Trigorah said, holding up her empty hands.
Ivy's narrowed eyes seemed to stare straight through Trigorah.
"If you didn't then who did? And why was Lain running from you?" she asked, the anger fading but still strong, and mixed with a healthy dose of suspicion.
"Those questions are not mine to answer," Trigorah replied.
"Don't tell me that! You ARE one of them! You can't just leave me be! You-" Ivy began to rant.
"Listen!" Trigorah's ordered.
Again Ivy froze. Trigorah's voice had the quality of a scolding parent. The forcefulness and authority broke through the emotions. Seizing the opportunity, Trigorah continued.
"I am not the only one seeking you. In fact, I believe that in pursuing you I have made myself a target. We cannot squander our time here, screaming at one another. Let me take you someplace away from prying eyes and curious ears. Once we have the benefit of doors and locks, this battle of wills can continue. Until then I want you to stay quiet, stay calm, and stay out of sight! Understood!" the general commanded.
Ivy nodded slowly. Any trace of anger was swept away. She felt compelled to comply, not in the unnatural way that Demont had willed upon her, but out of a sort of sudden respect, almost gratitude. It was as though the role of guiding hand that had been left vacant by Lain had, for now, been replaced. And there was something else. There was an air of . . . belonging. As though Trigorah was a piece to a puzzle that had long been incomplete. Something felt right about her leadership. Ivy crouched down into the darkness.
Trigorah pulled her hood up and made her way quickly toward the street. She'd taken an enormous chance speaking to the unstable creature as she did. Good fortune seldom smiled upon her for long. Carefully, she took up a position on the city street, the opening to the alleyway that hid her prize within sight. If memory served, there was a rather large and quite well staffed inn that would be able to accommodate her. An elderly man was passing by. Trigorah flagged him down. There was no need to ask the man if he was a veteran. He bore the scars and limp of a man who had fought until the military had no more use for him.
"You there, soldier," she called.
He turned and approached her.
"No one has called me that for some time, m' lady," he replied.
"Once in the service of this great land, always. I have a task for you," she said.
His eyes widened as he saw her face.
"You are the General. General Teloran. I am honored beyond words that you would speak to me," he gushed. "In my younger days I was considered for service in your great Elite! That was before the Tresson swine ruined my leg. I want you to know that not a night goes by that I do not curse the name of that Undermine captain who took so many of them from you."
Trigorah raised a finger to halt the torrent of adoration.
"Noted and appreciated, soldier, but there is a matter of grave military importance that requires speed, tact, and above all, discretion. Do you know the inn a few streets away?" she asked.
"Palin's House of Ale?" he asked.
"Precisely the one," she replied. "I will be transporting a prisoner there for questioning momentarily. Go now and see to it that a suitable room is ready for me when I arrive. A stout door, locks on the inside, and no windows. We shall arrive by the back door. The way to the room should be free of prying eyes."
"It is an honor to serve the crown once more, General," he replied, turning and heading off as quickly as his infirm legs would allow.
Trigorah made her way swiftly back to the alley. The creature was standing in the shadows. The lack of the unnatural aura about her proved that she was mercifully still calm.
"When I say so, we are going to cross the road into the opposite ally quickly and quietly. Then I will lead you to a door and into a room inside. You will be silent until I say you can speak," Trigorah instructed.
Ivy nodded. As Trigorah waited tensely for the old man to make the preparations, she watched Ivy closely. The creature was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, her eyes locked on the alley across the way. The box she held was hugged close to her chest. A few more moments passed.
"Why are we waiting?" Ivy whispered.
"Just wait. If we move too soon the way won't be clear," Trigorah said.
Ivy nodded. Trigorah judged that the time was right.
"Now," she ordered.
"Not yet. Wait," Ivy said, her voice hushed.
"I said-" Trigorah began scold.
Ivy ignored her, stepping further into the shadows. A moment later Trigorah heard the crunching footsteps Ivy's sensitive ears had. She too ducked back further. A large, shabbily dressed man lumbered by, dragging a crystal tipped halberd. He paused briefly in front of the alleyway.
"I know him," Ivy breathed almost silently. There was a shiver in her voice and a wisp of blue light.
"Steady," Trigorah warned.
The lumbering figure continued. Trigorah watched as he vanished from sight. Epidime. Fortune had run out sooner that she would have liked. Suddenly there was a motion beside her. Ivy bolted. Rather that call after her with an order that would certainly be ignored and likely draw Epidime's attention, she held her breath and prayed that she had learned some of Lain's accursed stealth. As she watched, she saw movements that could scarcely have been learned. Long graceful steps, planting surely despite the icy stone. Soo
n she was deep in the far alley, gone from sight. Hiding.
Trigorah edged closer to the opening of the alley. Epidime was a fair distance away, and moving further. Stepping lightly, she too made her way across. It turned her stomach not to face him and proclaim her victorious capture of Ivy, but the creature was anything but securely in her grasp at the moment. If she could milk just a drop of information out of her, not only Ivy but the other Chosen could be her prize. The other Generals would have no recourse but to allow her to take her rightful place at the front lines then. Even Bagu would have to relent after having the renegade warriors delivered directly to him.
"Did I do good?" Ivy asked eagerly.
Trigorah shrugged off the odd reaction of the creature and silently led on. The tavern was just a short way ahead, if she remembered correctly. As she walked, she began to gather her questions to mind, readying her techniques. Her instinct screamed warnings about the sudden compliance, even devotion her prisoner was showing. It warned about Epidime and what treachery he may have in store. Nothing could be done for now to deal with such concerns. They were noted and brushed aside. The sound of boisterous laughter and loud conversation heralded the approach of the only building in this part of town that didn't seem deserted or rundown. She stepped up to a sturdy wooden door and gave it a push. Sure enough, it was not latched.
The pair stepped in quietly, closing and latching the door behind them. Inside, the heady aroma of spilled ale and roasting meat momentarily distracted Ivy. Her eyes lingered on the door at the far end of the long, dim hallway. She longed to be on the other side. Badly she wanted to taste and smell and hear and see what was behind that door. A firm hand on her shoulder snapped her back to attention. There was one door open. It led to a large but virtually empty room. The place was nearly the size of a small banquet hall, but there was but a table and a pair of chairs to be found inside. They slipped in.
Trigorah drew the bolt on the door and tested its strength before turning to Ivy. The malthrope was already seated, placing her box carefully on the ground before folding her hands and smiling like an overachieving student. The General tried to work out what possible reason the creature might have for the complete reversal of trust. Before her escape, they were in the process of re-educating her. Demont had claimed that the process was not complete, but that a few safeguards had been put in place. Perhaps this was one of them reaching the surface. Regardless, best to take advantage while it lasted.
